


The Spirit of Convenience

by eastaustraliancurrent



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender, Gravity Falls
Genre: Blood, Brotherly Love, Demonic Possession, Gaang (Avatar), Ghosts, Gravity Falls AU, Horror Tropes, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, Kids in Danger, M/M, Mild Gore, Mild Language, Multi, Repression, Vomit, bolins love saves the day tbh, implied wuko, mako and bolin are the mystery twins and the gaang is wendy and the crew, not really ship focused but it is about gay shit so, protective mako, this is just me projecting a lot :/, traumatic events
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:28:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26588881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eastaustraliancurrent/pseuds/eastaustraliancurrent
Summary: “So, um, you…” Mako starts, then realizes he doesn’t know how to pry without sounding unbearably obvious. “Uh.”Zuko raises his one good eyebrow. Mako sweats.“Um… Sokka, huh?”Zuko stares at him, then slowly nods his head. “Yeah… Sokka.”Mako nods back. “Yup! Sokka!” He feels his voice squeak a little and he winces. “Uh, good… good job?”Zuko doesn’t reply, just watching Mako flail for some way to salvage the conversation."Um, how long have you been, uh, dating?"(A story of realization, repression, friendship, brotherhood, and love in every shape.)
Relationships: Bolin & Mako (Avatar), Mako/Prince Wu (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 180
Collections: finished shit





	The Spirit of Convenience

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lightningsmcqueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightningsmcqueen/gifts).



“Hey, you wanna come hang out with my friends later? There’s an old abandoned convenience store we wanna check out. Supposed to be haunted.”

Mako glances up from the journal and Zuko’s looking at him. “Me?”

Zuko smiles a little, elbows propped on the counter in front of him. “Yeah, you,” he says. “Seems right up your alley. You know, ghost stuff?” He looks pointedly down at the journal and Mako blushes. It’s open to a page about spirits, not ghosts, but he gets the point. Still, Zuko’s a big kid, he’s _cool,_ and Mako’s surprised he’s even asked.

“You sure you want me around?” he double checks. “Aren’t you guys all in, like, high school?”

Zuko shrugs. “They won’t mind. You two are good kids.”

Mako wrinkles his nose at the term “kids,” then, “Wait, two?”

The bell over the door jangles almost on cue and Bolin tumbles into the room, dragging Wu by the hand behind him.

“Three,” Zuko amends, eyebrow raised in amusement. “You guys wanna go to a haunted convenience store tonight?”

Bolin is practically coated in dirt and Wu is holding an enormous stick and Mako doesn’t even want to imagine what they had been doing outside but they’re both flushed and grinning. They light up at the offer.

“Do I!” Bolin exclaims. “Are we gonna see ghosts?”

“Ghosts?” Wu echoes, smiling nervously. He props the stick up next to the door and bee-lines to Mako.

“Hopefully,” Zuko replies.

“You believe in ghosts?” Mako asks. He tries to sound like the idea of Zuko _also_ being interested in the supernatural isn’t as exciting as it is to him.

Zuko shrugs. “Sure.”

Mako frowns, leans forward against the counter, the back legs of his stool tilting up. “What’s _that_ supposed to mean? Have you seen any?” 

Bolin jumps up and pulls himself up to sit on the counter, knocking against Mako and setting the stool wobbling. “Cut it out,” Mako hisses. Wu giggles and plants his foot on the rung to get his elbows over the edge of the counter, stabilizing the stool and leaning into Mako’s side.

Zuko watches them all with a raised eyebrow.

“You sure you still want us to come?” Mako asks drily.

<O>

Mako has to restrain himself from looking up at the clock on the wall every couple of seconds. Wu’s always been a faster reader than him and he doesn’t want to keep him waiting any longer, despite how Wu assures him that he likes to have the extra time to look at the journal’s illustrations. Still, the clock proves a worthy temptation and Wu has resorted to poking Mako in the side every time he gets distracted. 

It turns out the meticulous time-keeping wasn’t necessary, however, when the door bursts open a few minutes before five o’clock and a kid with a ponytail and an undercut barges in. Bolin comes trailing in after, watching the new guy with eyes full of awe. 

“Zuko!” the kid calls. “You ready to rumble?”

“Not yet, Sokka,” Zuko says, glancing over at Grandma Yin, who’s glaring at the interloper. “Still got a few more minutes on the clock.”

“You again,” Grandma scowls.

Sokka inclines his head to her. “Ah, the old ball and chain.” Grandma Yin snorts and turns away with a huff, but Mako notes with surprise the smothered smile on her face. “Don’t worry, buddy, I can wait.” Sokka slides onto the extra stool at the counter and leans over to kiss Zuko on the cheek. Zuko blushes.

Mako also blushes, and he quickly returns his attention to the book spread across his and Wu’s laps where they’d situated themselves against the wall of the shop to study up on ghosts. Next to him, Wu gawks at the pair, mouth hanging open. Mako elbows him.

“Woah!” Bolin cries, scampering over to the counter. “Zuko, you have a _boyfriend?_ ”

Zuko coughs awkwardly and Sokka turns wide eyes to him. “You have a _boyfriend?_ ” he echoes, a smile tugging at his teasing facade.

“Shut up,” Zuko grumbles, shoving Sokka hard enough that the stool tips back a little, but Sokka just laughs and grabs the edge of the counter to steady himself. “This is Sokka, guys. My boyfriend.”

“I’m Bolin,” Bolin chirps, then gestures at Mako and Wu. “That’s my brother, Mako, and our friend, Wu.” Wu waves.

Sokka smiles. “You guys coming with us tonight?”

Mako nods as he rises from the floor, dusting off the back of his shorts then tugging Wu up by the hand behind him.

“Yeah!” Bolin says. “I’m gonna kick some ghost butt!” He whirls around and punches the air, sending the postcard carousel wobbling. Mako scrambles over to right it.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Zuko says dryly. “The ghosts are supposed to be pretty dangerous.”

“What do you mean?” Wu asks, eyes wide.

“They say that the last owners of the store were brutally murdered,” Zuko explains. He leans over the counter for emphasis, looming Bolin. Mako walks up behind his brother and Wu follows, a finger hooked into his belt loop. Bolin shrinks back against Mako, just a little bit.

“Don’t be mean,” Sokka snorts, nudging Zuko.

“I’m not being mean,” Zuko lies. “I’m just giving them the facts.”

“‘Facts.’” Sokka makes air quotes with his fingers.

“How do you explain their deaths, then? Two simultaneous, spontaneous heart attacks?” 

“Maybe!” Sokka insists. “Not everything has to be all spooky all the time!”

“You’re just mad because you don’t believe in ghosts,” Zuko grins.

Sokka laughs and pokes Zuko in the arm. “ _You’re_ just mad because I’m the only one here with a clear, rational mind!”

“You don’t believe in ghosts?” Mako pipes up.

Sokka scoffs. “Of course not.”

Outside, a car horn blares. Zuko looks up at the clock on the wall. “Time to go. You guys ready? Have you got your coats?”

Sokka rolls his eyes. “They don’t need coats, it’s eighty degrees outside. C’mon, let’s get this show on the road.”

“Guess I’ll close up on my own,” Grandma Yin grumbles.

Mako opens his mouth to apologize but Bolin beats him to it, calling out an upbeat, “Thanks, Grandma!” as they quickly file out the door.

The parking lot is empty save for Grandma’s station wagon and a large, banana-yellow van with a group of teenagers rioting around it. They’re shouting, throwing pine cones at each other and treating the dusty lot like a war zone, ducking behind the logs and trees at the edges, one kid even ducking behind Grandma’s car and Mako prays for their sake that none of them hit it. One girl is sitting in the open door of the van, seemingly indifferent to the chaos around her. 

Sokka yelps the moment they step outside and Mako looks over to see a pinecone bouncing off his forehead. Sokka catches it before it hits the ground and he hurls it back at the group, hitting the girl in the van. She moves instantly, grabbing the pinecone where it landed and whipping it straight back toward the Mystery Shack. Mako ducks, and it smacks right into Zuko’s face.

“ _Ow!_ ” he shouts, his hand shooting up to his mouth.

The girl in the van cackles.

Bolin is _delighted_ by the scene around him and he snatches up a pinecone and jumps into the fray.

“Bolin.” Mako steps forward to stop him, but Wu is clinging to his shoulders, holding him in place as a human shield. Mako sighs.

The older kids pause for a moment when Bolin approaches, but once he starts launching little pine cone missiles with devastating accuracy they get right back to it, yelling and laughing.

“Dude, are you bleeding?” Sokka’s asking Zuko, pulling his hands away from his mouth and inspecting. There’s a shallow cut on his lip, blood dripping down his chin. Sokka chuckles. “How did you even do that, Toph?” he shouts at the girl in the van.

“I can pinpoint you from a mile away with all the noise you make!” she yells back.

“You didn’t hit _me,_ you hit _Zuko!_ ”

“Close enough!”

Sokka laughs again and uses the collar of his shirt to wipe the blood away, hand gentle at the back of Zuko’s neck as he dabs at his mouth. Mako’s chest feels tight and he glances at the older kids as they wrap up their mini war, but none of them seem to pay the couple any mind.

“Is it safe yet?” Wu asks, still clinging to Mako’s shoulders.

Mako rolls his eyes. “Yeah, Wu.” He feels Wu’s hands slide softly from his shoulders and then he marches himself down the porch steps to introduce himself to the other kids. Mako spares Zuko another glance then hurries after him.

“Aren’t you that kid from the big mansion on the hill?” the girl in the car, Toph, is saying, looking down at her feet.

Wu bristles. “Aren’t you that kid from the big mansion on the other hill?” he shoots back.

“Touché.” Toph grins. “I think I recognize your voice from some shindig or another.”

“You’re a Beifong?” Bolin butts in. “I didn’t know Wing and Wei had another sister!”

“They don’t,” Toph snorts. “I’m their cousin.”

“Oh! Well,” Bolin sticks his grubby hand out. “Nice to meet you anyways!”

“Likewise.” She doesn’t grab the hand.

“She’s blind, little guy,” says one of the other girls.

“Oh!” Bolin burns bright red. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize—”

Toph just shrugs him off.

“I’m Suki,” says the girl. “And this is Aang and Katara.”

They smile then look at Mako, who realizes he must be the only one who hasn’t been introduced yet. “Mako,” he blurts. “Um. I’m Mako.”

Behind him, Sokka claps his hands together and Mako jumps. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand!” 

Toph laughs and Katara rolls her eyes.

<O>

“Spooky,” Sokka declares, arms folded as they look at the empty old store.

Toph blows her bangs out of her face. “I’m sure it is,” she sighs.

Mako eyeballs the building, apprehensive. It certainly looks old, but so does every building in Gravity Falls. This one, however, has a different air to it. It could be the darkness of the night around them, Mako supposes, but it feels just a little bit… off. Like a perspective drawing whose proportions are just the tiniest bit skewed. He shivers and thinks for a moment that maybe he should have listened to Zuko and brought a coat.

It’s Suki who picks the lock on the chained-up door, pulling a bobby-pin from her hair, and they all slip quietly through the entrance.

Mako goes in last, right behind Wu. Bolin was at the front, leading the charge, and Mako sighs. “I don’t know if this is such a good idea,” he mutters. He’s seen more than enough supernatural activity this summer to know better than to think the only thing haunting this store is rumor.

Wu falls back to walk beside Mako, reaching out to hold onto Mako’s sleeve. “Boy, am I glad to hear you say that!” He’s smiling again and Mako can see the nervousness behind the expression. “Why would you _want_ to see a ghost?”

Something clatters behind them and they both jump, but it’s only the OPEN/CLOSED sign hanging on the door as it clicks shut again. 

“Well,” Mako says. “It would be cool… Educational, maybe.” 

Someone finds a light switch and to his surprise, the lights flicker back on, albeit shakily. Wu twitches a little in the raw, shimmering light and shakes his head. “If I wanted to see a ghost, I would have stayed home.”

Mako snorts and Wu grins at him, both remembering the ghost they had banished from his family’s manor earlier that summer.

“Why _did_ you come, then?” Mako asks, curious.

Wu smiles brightly. “I wanted to hang out!” He tugs playfully on Mako’s sleeve and Mako can’t stop the blush that spreads across his cheeks.

The others are all enthralled with the store, running around and pulling expired items from the shelves, wreaking general, genial havoc. Katara’s pulling Toph by the hand over to the freezer and Aang has already managed to climb his way to the top of one of the shelves. Zuko’s standing beneath him, tossing little snack packs to him then clambering up and settling in beside him. Suki and Sokka are out of sight and so is Bolin, and though Mako hasn’t known Suki and Sokka long, he gets the feeling that the combination of them and Bolin won’t bode well.

He doesn’t have to worry long, however, as Bolin comes skittering down one of the aisles toward Mako and Wu with bright pink packets clutched to his chest. “Look, Mako! Smile Dip!”

Wu gasps. “No way! I thought they banned those!”

Mako takes one of the little packages and eyes it suspiciously. A demented cartoon dog stares back at him and he frowns. “There’s probably a good reason for that.”

Bolin is already tearing through the wrapping and dipping his finger in, not even bothering with the candy stick. “I’ve always wanted to try it!” He scoops out a wad of what just looks like pink powder and licks it.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Mako insists, but Bolin is already whooping and running off again. Mako shakes his head.

He and Wu wander through the aisles and Mako has to wonder what it is about an old run-down shop that gets people all riled up. It’s just expired food, but everyone seems to be having the time of their lives, Wu included, grabbing things from the shelves and exclaiming over them. Mako has to pry a dusty bag of Cheetos from Wu’s hands because he’s gazing too wistfully at it.

“I’m sure Cheetos don’t _really_ expire,” Wu wheedles. “Come on, Mako, my parents never let me have them. Just one?” Wu folds his hands together under his chin and looks up at Mako through his lashes. 

Mako’s chest tightens again. “No,” he says firmly, and turns around to put them back on the shelf, avoiding Wu’s puppy dog eyes.

There’s a freezer box full of soda’s at the back of the store and Wu lights up, rushing over to it, only the moment he steps out of the aisle his feet go shooting out from beneath him. He shouts, grabbing onto Mako in an attempt to break his fall but only managing to bring Mako down with him, both landing heavily on the linoleum tiles. The floor is cold and wet and Mako cringes as it seeps through his shorts.

“Wu down!” Wu wails, and Mako gets up and pulls him back to his feet.

“Sorry about that, guys!” Sokka calls. He’s down at one end of the store with Suki, empty ice bags at their bare feet as they hang onto a freezer door for balance. “But, check this out!” He runs forward, feet slipping as he goes, but he keeps his balance until he works up to a decent speed. Then, he thrusts one foot out in front of him, the other bracing behind, and throws his arms out for balance as he goes sliding down the aisle with a whoop. Mako realizes the wetness on the floor has to be from the ice strewn about the floor, half-melted and turning the slick tiles into a shoddy imitation of an ice-skating rink. Sokka veers off to the left and crashes into a display of chips, sending them raining down around him as Suki cracks up.

“This is how it’s _really_ done,” she calls, and she winks over at Wu and Mako before throwing herself down the aisle. She makes it a decent amount further than Sokka before her legs slide out from under her and she falls onto her side with a laugh.

Sokka comes careening back toward Mako and Wu and they both dodge out of the way so he can use the shelves as a crash-landing. “Try it!” he grins.

Wu’s already slipping the shoes from his feet, his jaw set and eyes bright in the way they get whenever he’s confronted by something his parents would never let him try. He takes off down the aisle, arms pinwheeling and wobbling all the way but managing to keep his balance, and Suki reaches out to catch him before he hits the wall. He laughs, exhilarated, and does a little dance that finally sends him crashing to the ground, but he just laughs. Mako smiles, looks down at the ground and kicks at one of the ice cubes. It skitters away and as he watches it, his smile slowly turns into a frown.

“How are these still frozen?” he asks Sokka.

Sokka opens his mouth to answer then shuts it again, eyebrows furrowed. “Huh. I’m not sure…”

“Come on, Mako!” Wu cries.

Sokka picks up one of the ice cubes and looks closely at it, but it just looks like a normal ice cube. Mako watches in horror as Sokka brings it up to his lips and tentatively licks it.

“ _Gross!_ ” Mako exclaims.

Sokka just laughs. “Tastes like your run-of-the-mill frozen water to me!”

Wu calls for Mako again and he spares one last disgusted look at Sokka before turning to Wu, who’s waving and beaming at him. Mako can’t help but smile fondly at him, and he kicks his shoes off and goes running down the aisle.

The floor is slick beneath his feet as he rushes forward and leans his weight onto his front foot, rocketing past the other aisles as he spreads his arms like wings behind him. He can’t stop the laugh that cracks out of his lungs as he flies toward Suki and Wu.

Wu dodges out of the way and Suki throws an arm around his middle as he goes by, stopping him from hitting the far wall. “Incoming!” she cries, looking over Mako’s shoulder, but it’s too late and then Sokka is crashing into Mako’s back. Mako grabs the shelf in an attempt to keep himself upright, but Suki and Sokka fall to the floor again, a tangle of limbs and laughter. Suki kicks Sokka off her and he rolls onto his back and lies there like a beached starfish, giggling up at the ceiling. Wu watches them all from where he’s safely pressed up against the shelf, a mixture of worry and amusement as he watches them right themselves.

“Woah, I wanna try!” Mako turns around to see Aang jumping down from where he’d been perched with Zuko up on one of the shelves. He runs over and immediately slides gracefully down the aisle, even managing to stop himself before he crashes into the opposite wall, twirling neatly around to face them. He pumps his fists, smiling bright. “Awesome!”

“Not fair,” Sokka whines from where he’s propped himself up on his elbows to watch. Suki pats the top of his head commiseratingly and Wu takes off down the aisle after Aang with a shout.

“Come down, Zuko!” Sokka shouts.

Zuko makes a face. “What, so I can break my neck?”

“You’re the one sitting ten feet up in the air,” Suki points out.

“Yeah!” Sokka exclaims. “That!”

Zuko just shrugs and Sokka sticks his tongue out at him. “Toss me one of those Sour Patch Kids?” Zuko calls down.

Sokka reaches over and snags a bag from the shelf behind him without getting up and lobs it feebly in Zuko’s direction. It goes up in a wimpy arc and lands about halfway between the two.

“Weak,” Zuko says. Sokka sighs dramatically.

“I’ll get it,” Mako offers. He scoops the bag up and trots over to toss it up to a pleased Zuko.

“Join me?” Zuko pats the top of the shelf beside him.

Mako grins and Zuko helps pull him up. Mako settles in beside him and eyes the Sour Patch Kids as Zuko rips them open. “You aren’t really gonna eat those, are you?”

“They can’t be much worse than they usually are,” Zuko shrugs, and Mako finds himself inclined to agree.

From up here, he can see Toph and Katara rooting around in the freezers and Bolin sitting on the floor by the Smile Dip display. The floor around him is littered with pink wrappers and Mako knows he should go down there and drag him away from the stand but he doesn’t, worried that Zuko won’t invite him back up if he does. Everyone else is still sliding around on the wet floor, and he and Zuko sit and watch in comfortable silence.

Mako draws his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them, rests his chin on them. He glances at Zuko from the corner of his eye, watching him watch Sokka with a fond smile as he and Aang go swirling across the floor holding hands. Mako had never known anyone… like Zuko. Not really. He’d known people like _that_ existed, of course, but he supposed he’d never really considered it. Mako feels his chest tighten as he does consider it, for the first time, and he rolls his shoulders, opening his chest a bit as though that will soothe the ache, and looks over at Zuko again.

“So, um, you…” Mako starts, then realizes he doesn’t know how to pry without sounding unbearably obvious. “Uh.”

Zuko raises his one good eyebrow. Mako sweats.

“Um… Sokka, huh?”

Zuko stares at him, then slowly nods his head. “Yeah… Sokka.”

Mako nods back. “Yup! Sokka!” He feels his voice squeak a little and he winces. “Uh, good… good job?”

Zuko doesn’t reply, just watching Mako flail for some way to salvage the conversation.

“Um, how long have you been, uh, dating?”

Zuko pops a Sour Patch Kid into his mouth and chews it slowly, scanning Mako. “Almost a year,” he says slowly. He looks almost… tense, and Mako twists his fingers together uncomfortably.

“Sorry,” he says, and Zuko looks surprised. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” Zuko says hurriedly. “You’re not— um, it’s okay.”

“Okay,” Mako says to his knees.

Zuko keeps staring at him and Mako’s cheeks burn. He makes himself focus on the scene below him, watching Sokka slide across the floor with Wu on his back. Mako gnaws on his lip and prays that they don’t snap both their necks.

Zuko shifts beside him and Mako can see him frowning from the corner of his eye. “Mako—”

Toph roars from across the store, “Everyone, shut up!” Mako jumps, and everyone silences immediately, Zuko snapping his mouth shut, Suki even plopping down to her knees in the middle of a slide in an effort to be more quiet.

Toph is still over by the freezers, fists planted on her hips and brow furrowed in concentration. Mako finds himself holding his breath as he watches her, waits.

Finally, she exhales, puffing one of her long bangs out of her face. When she speaks again, she sounds uncertain. “I thought I heard something.”

“What did you hear?” Katara aks.

“I dunno,” Toph mumbles. “It was like… a weird gurgling, or something.”

Sokka gasps. “You don’t think it was a g-g-ghost?” he exclaims, pressing his hands to his cheeks in mock horror. Suki punches him in the arm and he yelps.

Mako feels his heart start to beat a little faster in his chest, and he traces the edge of the journal. “Where was it coming from?” he asks.

Toph gestures toward the front of the store, the checkout counter. Mako scrambles down the shelf and rushes over.

“It was probably just some pipes,” Sokka grumbles, but he still walks toward the counter with the rest of them. He stops short when he peers around the edge of it. “Or not!” he amends. Katara gasps.

Mako ducks under Sokka’s arm to see. On the ground are two chalk outlines of bodies, bright and clean against the muddied shine of the tile floor. Mako would laugh at the cliche if he wasn’t starting to freak out. He swallows nervously

“What?” Toph demands, and Katara quietly explains to her what they’re looking at.

Suki muffles a snort. “It’s a little over the top, don’t you think?”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Sokka snickers.

Mako glances at the rest of them. Zuko looks even paler than usual and Aang looks thoughtful, but Wu looks downright frightened, gaping at the chalk outlines. Mako realizes with a jolt that Bolin is nowhere to be seen.

“Dare you to lie down in it, Sparky,” Toph grins.

Zuko glares at her. “I’m glaring at you,” he says.

“Yeah, I can feel it.”

“What’ll you give me if _I_ do it?” Sokka pipes up.

Mako had been squeezing his way out of the group and back into the store to look for Bolin but he balks. “I don’t think—” Mako starts.

“Respect,” Toph says over him.

“Really?” Sokka exclaims.

Toph crosses her arms. “Only a little bit.”

“No take-backs!” Sokka crows, and he flops down into one of the outlines.

“Wait!” Mako cries, but it’s too late. He feels the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, like a tangible energy rushing through the room, but for a moment nothing else happens.

Sokka laughs. “Look at me, I’m—”

The chalk outlines light up, searing bright, and Mako has to close his eyes, bring his arms up to shield them. He hears the others gasping, screaming around him and then dark, dripping laughter over the sound of Sokka yelling.

When the light fades enough that Mako can squint his eyes open again, Sokka’s gone, the chalk outlines empty on the ground. The room around them is awash with an eerie green light, painting the shadows deep and empty around them. There’s a soft rumbling coming from _everywhere_ , subtle enough that it’s not specifically noticeable but enough to make them uneasy, on edge constantly. 

“Sokka!” Katara screams.

“What happened?” Toph demands. “Somebody tell me what happened right now!” 

Zuko is on his knees at the outlines, hands sweeping across them as though Sokka is somehow still there, maybe hidden. Wu clings to Mako’s arm, terrified, and Mako squeezes him comfortingly even as he stumbles away from the group.

“Bolin?” Mako yells. “Bolin, where are you?”

Wu is gibbering, frantic words tumbling out of his mouth as Mako pulls him back, back, away from the outlines and toward the Smile Dip display where he had last seen his brother. “Where did he go, he was just there, oh my gosh my parents will never let me hear the end of it if a ghost gets me tonight, wait wait wait, Mako, where are you going, don’t leave the group!”

Wu tugs on Mako’s arm and Mako tries to shake him off but he doesn’t let go. “We can’t get separated, Mako, we need to stay together, with the big kids, we can’t go off alone, we have to stay here, we have to go home right _now!_ ”

The lights above them waver, the green light fading into a deep burgundy for a moment. Wu screams, jerks at Mako’s side like someone’s got a hold of him and Mako whips around but it’s just Aang, hand resting on Wu’s shoulder and trying to gently tug them back toward the others.

“He’s right, you know,” Aang says, voice calm but eyes wide as his gaze darts around the store. “We need to stick together.”

“But my brother—”

“We’ll find him,” Aang promises. “But we need to stay together.”

Wu sniffles and Aang glances down at him. “Hey, it’ll be okay,” he says, and bends down to wrap him in a hug. Wu falls into Aang’s arms but still keeps his hand clinging to Mako’s as he does, and Mako stumbles forward a little bit.

He looks back toward the Smile Dip, but Bolin is still nowhere to be seen and Mako feels his brother’s absence like a cold stone in the pit of his stomach. He chokes down his fear. Aang is right, they need to be rational, he can figure this out and save Bolin. He pulls out his journal and turns back to Aang and Wu.

Aang is rigid, arms still as steel around Wu, not tight or squeezing, just _stopped_. His eyes are frozen wide with fear, staring right through Mako. Mako’s blood runs cold and he frantically looks to the others, catches Zuko’s eye, and he immediately starts running toward them, but it’s not quick enough.

Mako watches in horror as the edges of Aang’s arms start to flicker in and out of focus. Mako blames the faulty lights at first, but soon the distortion moves, traveling quickly up Aang’s arms, shoulder, up to his face where the blurriness focuses, then expands all at once, tearing Aang’s features apart until they’re nothing but particles in the air, gone.

Wu shrieks, scrambling backwards until he slams into Mako, who automatically drops the journal to steady him. Zuko had gotten there just in time to scrape his fingers through Aang’s disappearing shoulder and he now just stands there, staring at his hand as the others stumble up beside him. 

“What’s happening?” Toph asks again, her voice trembling as she clutches Suki’s arm.

Zuko swallows, folds his hand into a fist, then shakes it out again. When he replies, his voice is hoarser than usual. “Aang’s gone.”

In Mako’s arms, Wu begins to hyperventilate.

“Wu?” Mako turns him around in his arms so they’re facing each other.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, I’m too young to die,” Wu says between labored breaths, tears painting his cheeks. “ _He_ was too young to die, he was holding me and—”

Wu freezes.

“No!” Mako shouts. “Wu, no no no _no!_ ” He squeezes Wu to his chest as though if he holds on tight enough he could keep Wu from slipping away, but he’s already starting to feel less substantial than before, like Mako’s arms are going _into_ Wu, and he can only barely sense Wu scrabbling at his back with fingers that are ceasing to exist. “Just hold on, Wu, you’ll be okay, I’ve got you—”

But Mako can’t stop it, he’s nothing against whatever power _this_ is, and Wu fades from his arms, silent, still, and Mako is left holding empty air where his friend had just been. All Mako can do is stare at the newly vacant space and he can feel the others around him doing the same when that deep, dragging laugh from before rings out.

The sound rattles off the linoleum floors and they all turn to where the green light is now flooding from over the tops of the aisles. The store around them seems to groan with the weight of the infinite shadows and for just a second Mako feels like the floor beneath him is folding up, into the light, but he shakes his head and the feeling is gone. Bits of debris fly into the air and whip toward the light, around it, just bits of paper and packaging at first, then boxes of food, bits of shelf, and gradually more and more and bigger and bigger things are swept up until there’s a tiny localized tornado before them, everything spinning around the figure that rises from the aisles.

“ _Bolin!_ ” Mako screams, and Zuko has to yank him back by the elbow to stop him from running toward his brother.

Bolin is _levitating_ , suspended in the eye of all the commotion. His face is slack, eyes emanating the green light and jaw hanging open as the laughter continues to pour out of it.

“Let him go!” Suki screams, but Bolin just laughs harder, though his face remains completely impassive.

“For so long, we’ve waited.” The voice that pours from Bolin’s mouth is quiet, soft almost, but the sound of it seems to ring through Mako’s bones, making his hair stand on end. “For so long, we’ve _starved_. No, we will not let your friends go, though you may join them.”

Katara yells, loud and ragged, and starts to throw things at him, anything she can reach.

“Don’t hurt him!” Mako cries. He tries to pry Zuko’s fingers from his arm. 

An old can of soup catches Bolin in the shoulder and his body twists back, and for just a moment the wind dies. Bolin turns his head toward Katara, movements slow and controlled, and the wind screams around him. Mako chokes down a sob.

Katara has her arm pulled back, ready to release another projectile when she freezes under Bolin’s gaze.

“No!” Zuko yells, but there’s nothing any of them can do and they watch, helpless, as her body warps, skews in the air before tearing out of existence.

Bolin gurgles out a dripping cackle and Mako shudders. “We’re so _hungry._ ”

Suki takes action, grabbing Toph’s hand and ducking into the nearest aisle, gaining cover and encouraging the others to follow here, but before they even take a few steps Mako feels his stomach swoop as the floor moves beneath him again. He loses his balance and falls toward the ground, except before he can fall down he feels himself begin to _rise_ , flailing through the air as the store twists wildly around him. For a moment he thinks he’s floating, then he feels gravity’s grip around him again and he’s falling down, down, from a height that doesn’t make sense.

He lands heavy on his back, breath punched away on impact. Somewhere else, Suki yells, short and pained, and then there’s the sound of buzzing and crashing, more things hitting the ground around him. He rolls to his stomach, chest heaving for air, and sees a huge shower of sparks fly out from where he assumes something hit one of the fluorescent lights. They burn in the green glow, brighter and hotter than they should be, and Mako stares at them for a moment, entranced, then shakes his head and reaches over to pull on Zuko’s shirt where he’s landed nearby.

Zuko groans and sits up, looks up, and his eye widens. He grabs the collar of Mako’s shirt, yanks him close, and Mako feels something brush against his leg before it crunches to the ground behind him. There’s a freezer box, half crumpled and nearly twice as long as he is tall, right where he had just been lying.

“Get in there!” Zuko shoves him toward it and crawls after. Mako obeys, looking up as he goes, and sees the linoleum floor above them.

“We’re on the _ceiling_ ,” Mako wheezes as Zuko tucks himself into the freezer next to him. Zuko just nods and a microwave crashes down where his legs had been moments before.

“Suki!” Zuko yells through the opening.”Toph!”

“Zuko!” Toph shrieks back. “Where are you? Where’s Suki?”

Beneath all the yelling and crashing Bolin continues to laugh. Mako peers out at him, still levitating but now upside down relative to the rest of them. He’s facing away, toward Toph sitting underneath an old table.

“Stay there!” Zuko shouts. “I’ll come to you, don’t come out from beneath the table!”

Even from here Mako can see the tears coursing down her cheeks as Toph nods, wraps her arms around the table leg.

“Zuko, you can’t go out there,” Mako exclaims, grabbing onto Zuko’s wrist. In front of them, the air around Bolin wails, sweeping bigger and heavier things into its cyclone. The microwave that had almost crushed Zuko’s leg wobbles with the force. 

“I can’t leave her out there,” Zuko insists.

“We have to think of something else,” Mako says as firmly as he can. He wipes his nose on his sleeve and reaches for his journal, then freezes when he remembers. He dropped it when Wu— he doesn’t have it anymore. He looks back out at the chaos, hoping desperately that it had landed close by up on the ceiling, but no, there’s nothing there. “No,” Mako chokes.

“What’s wrong?” Zuko looks over at Mako and gently grabs his shoulder. “Did you get hurt?”

“No, the journal—” Mako squeezes his eyes shut, he will not cry in front of Zuko. “I lost my journal.”

Zuko looks concerned, but confused. “It’s okay—”

“No, you don’t _understand_ , I need it to kill the ghost, it— it said something about defeating ghosts, but it’s gone now and Bolin—”

Zuko tightens his grip on Mako’s shoulder. “Mako, _listen_ , you were reading that thing all afternoon, you don’t _need_ it, we just need to— to use our heads and get out of here, save our friends.”

Mako shakes his head and presses the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I can’t remember—”

Toph screams and there’s a splintering, cracking sound and Mako looks up just in time to see her knocked back against the far wall, the table she had been hiding under decimated and sucked into the tornado.

“Leave her alone!” Zuko yells at Bolin. He’s got his shoulders already half out the freezer before Mako can tug him back in, his hair whipping around his face as it’s pulled loose from his top knot. “What do you want from us?”

Bolin’s body swivels in midair until it’s facing Zuko and the laughter dies slowly in his throat. “What do we _want?_ ” Mako squints against the light pouring from Bolin’s eyes. “We’ve already said: We’re _starving_.”

“What does that even _mean?_ ” Toph yells.

The corners of Bolin’s mouth twist upward, as though tugged by strings into a gross impression of a smile. “For so long we’ve been _stagnant_ , pinned to this plane, helpless to do anything but witness the growth, the change of the world we were deprived from.” A deep groan wracks its way through Bolin’s throat, as though the thought alone pains him. “You cannot fathom the ache, the hollowness we’ve nursed for so long. All we want,” Bolin rasps. “All we want is your youth. Your growth. Your change.”

“Fuck you!” Toph screams. She pushes herself to her feet, wavering in the buffeting winds. A stool whips past her head and Mako flinches, sure for a moment that it would hit her, but she stands resolute. Toph points toward Bolin and reiterates, “Fuck you! We’re gonna fucking kill you and take our friends back, you creepy _dick!_ ”

Bolin rotates to face her again, his lips peeling open to continue: “Your _determination._ ” And Toph splinters, shreds of her arms, her shoulders, her torso, stripping from her body and flying away into the howling wind until she’s gone.

“ _No!_ ” Zuko screams. He pulls away from Mako and clambers out of the freezer, arms up to protect his face. A chair slams into his side and he stumbles, keeps himself upright. “Bring her back!” he pleads. “What do you want, I’ll give anything, bring them _back!_ ”

Bolin looks thoughtfully at Zuko, then smiles again. Mako can see a thin line of drool running down Bolin’s cheek, sees his little hands hanging limp in the air. “Nothing from _you_ ,” the monster says through Bolin’s bared teeth.

“ _Please!_ ” Zuko cries.

Bolin chuckles, jaw jerking up and down. “You may wonder why we choose to hunt here of all places, but really, it’s quite obvious.”

“I don’t _care!_ ” Zuko shouts. He grabs a pack of plastic water bottles and swings it around, hurling them at Bolin.

“Don’t!” Mako yells.

A few of the heavier items crash to the ground when the pack connects, the wind stuttering for just a moment before picking back up.

“Young people are incapable of resisting the temptation of the forbidden,” the monster continues, ignoring Zuko. “They come traipsing in here with their emotions spilling across the floor, pain, excitement, anger, fear”— he turns his blinding gaze to Mako— “ _love._ ”

Mako’s chest squeezes, tight enough that he feels like he can’t breathe for a moment and he clutches at the front of his shirt. Zuko looks over his shoulder at Mako, hair flying around his face, and his eyes are wide and scared, the deep shadows etching the fear into his face.

“If you want your friends back,” the monster drawls. “You have to give us something _especially_ satiating. We crave the nebulous, realizations too large to handle, bottled up and left to ferment…”

“No!” Zuko shouts. “Take it from me, you can’t—”

“Yours won’t _do_ ,” the monster insists, and the weight of his words sends a ripple through the air, knocking Zuko off his feet and back toward the freezer. Zuko scrambles over and places himself between Mako and Bolin. “We don’t want something settled, something _comfortable_. That we can get that whenever we want.”

Mako’s breaths are sharp in his chest, his heart a leaden weight as he tries to figure out what the ghost could possibly be talking about. He doesn’t— Mako doesn’t _have_ anything to give, what do they _mean?_ The back of his throat itches with unshed tears and he shakes his arms out, trying to get rid of the tingling feeling they’ve been holding since Wu disappeared from them.

Bolin laughs again, and this one is the worst, inescapable even through the rattling chaos of the store around them, dragging through Mako’s core as it echoes. “He doesn’t even _know_ ,” the ghost crows, delighted. An old cereal box whips by, scraping across Mako’s face, and Mako gets the feeling that it was a _caress_ , carefully turning his face back up to face Bolin from where he had previously ducked his head. “Give _that_ up and we’ll return your friends.” The ghost floats quiet for a minute, thoughtful. “In fact, we’ll even let you stay. Empty, but _alive_.”

“Why don’t you just _take_ it, whatever you’re talking about!” Mako screams. “I don’t want it, just give me my brother back!”

The monster twists Bolin’s head back and forth, shaking it with that same stretched-wide grin. “We can’t take it until you _realize_ it,” it replies. “Besides, it’s so much sweeter when it’s willing.”

“You can’t have it!” Zuko roars.

Bolin’s eyes blaze and the whirlwind sweeps wider. Mako feels the freezer start to tremble and Zuko yanks him out, pushes him backwards. The freezer scrapes away in the wind and Mako fears he’s about to follow it, feet sliding along the ceiling, but Zuko tugs him toward the back wall, away from Bolin.

Mako stumbles behind him, only half aware of the grocery products pounding into him, struggling to decipher the ghost’s riddle, heart thrashing against his ribs. Zuko deposits him against the wall and Mako slides down to sit on the ceiling, Zuko crouching in front of him, shielding him from the wreckage. Over Zuko’s shoulder Mako can see his brother, now slowly rotating counter to the wind storm, laughing, huge punctuations of glee that wrack the entirety of his body with their force. Mako fumbles for Zuko’s wrist, latching on to where it’s braced next to his head against the wall.

When Mako looks up at him, he realizes that Zuko’s not looking out at Bolin, out at the danger around them as Mako had been, but instead watching Mako, face pained, drawn into its usual scowl. There’s something else there, though, something that Mako can’t put a name to that sends a jolt to his core, and it’s that look on Zuko’s face that sparks the realization, his chest squeezing so _tight_ with it.

Mako heaves in a gasp, shocked and sharp, and the ghost screams with laughter. “ _Oh_ ,” he croaks, and Zuko shifts his hand from the wall to Mako’s shoulder, getting directly in front of him and blocking Bolin from his sight. Mako can barely breathe, the realization welling up in his throat, choking him.

“It’s okay,” Zuko insists. He shakily tries to brush Mako’s hair from his forehead, to no avail as the wind whips it around again. “You’re okay, you don’t have to—”

Mako’s mind races to reorient itself, trying desperately to tamp down on the rising hysteria, but there’s no way of _ever_ closing that box now that it’s open. He tries to keep the pieces from spilling out, from slotting into place as he finally acknowledges the things he used to ignore, and things make sense _finally_ , for the first time in too long, and then he remembers his brother, his friends, _Wu_ , and knows that for them he has to abandon himself, so he twists around to peer out from behind Zuko again, to see the cold light filling his brother’s eyes.

“Mako—” Zuko glances worriedly over his shoulder.

“I have to save them,” Mako gasps. “I have to, I need to—”

“No, no, we’ll find another way, you don’t have to—”

“Yes I _do!_ ” Mako’s voice cracks. “What other way is there?”

Zuko’s face is pale gray and he shakes his head. “There has to be another way, we just need to think—”

The same microwave from before crashes to the ground in front of them, skidding across the ceiling and slamming into one of the protruding fluorescent lights. It sends up a shower of sparks that burn hot in the green glow. Mako and Zuko stare at it, shielding their faces, then Zuko sets his jaw.

“Zuko—”

“The ghost can be affected by solid objects,” Zuko says. “Katara hit it, so did I.”

“Because that’s _Bolin_ , not the ghost!” Mako cries.

“But it stopped the wind for a moment,” Zuko insists. “We just need to hit it hard enough, that light is reacting to the glow, we could maybe use it to knock him out—”

“ _No!_ ” Mako screams. “You can’t hurt him, it’s Bolin, it’s my _brother!_ ”

“I won’t seriously injure him,” Zuko promises. “I’ll just— it’ll be just for a second, we have to _stop_ him!”

“No,” Mako shakes his head furiously. “No, I can—”

“I won’t let you sacrifice yourself!” Zuko shouts.

“No, let me try to—” Mako squeezes his eyes shut, trying to think of _anything_ to stop Zuko. He looks up at Bolin and sees his stupid Velcro light-up sneakers dangling in midair and it _hurts_. “Let me just try to talk to him, it’s still Bolin, right?” Zuko looks doubtful, and Mako glares at him, shoves him away and gets to his feet.

“ _Bolin!_ ” Mako yells. Bolin’s still right-side up, toes pointing to the ground and head to the ceiling, his hair standing on end with the reversal of gravity. They’re on the same eye level, Mako standing on the ceiling as his brother floats above it. “It’s me, it— it’s Mako!”

Bolin doesn’t stop laughing and Mako drops to the floor to avoid a display shelf hurtling toward his head.

“I know you’re still in there,” he insists, clambering back to his feet and shuffling forward. He brings his arms up to shield his head from the whirling detritus. “Please, Bolin.”

Bolin’s mouth hangs wide as he continues to rumble out more laughter. “Familial love,” the ghost says. Mako continues to stumble forward, batting bags of chips out of the air. “In this case, a simple feeling, a given. If you want to bargain, boy, you’ll have to offer something more filling than that.”

Mako ignores him, pushing onward, struggling to keep his footing. “We grew up together,” Mako shouts. “It’s always been you and me, and I’m not giving up on you now!”

Bolin’s smile stretches again, then the wind stops and Mako nearly falls over.

“Bolin?” He scrambles forward, jumping over the fallen debris toward his brother. “Oh my god, Bolin?”

The light is still pouring from Bolin’s eyes and Mako can barely see, but he reaches out and hooks his hands under his brother’s arms, trying to pull him down to the ceiling, but he doesn’t budge. There’s a wrenching noise behind him but he doesn’t turn around, instead steels himself and squints directly into Bolin’s face. 

It’s too bright for him to _really_ see his brother’s face, but what little he does see of it fills him with dread. The corners of his mouth are bleeding, his lips pale and stretched thin with that same horrifying smile and Mako shudders, pulls harder, trying to yank Bolin out of the invisible bonds that bind him.

“If you won’t give yourself up to me,” the monster sighs, voice physically vibrating through Mako at this close proximity. “I suppose I’ll just have to take you all.”

Mako tries to scream but his voice won’t obey him, stuck in his throat, his whole body stuck where it is, face to face with the monster inside his little brother, and he feels his fingers begin to _splinter_ . It’s like someone is prying off his fingernails, then the tips of his fingers, then his palms, flaying the skin from his hands and shattering the bones and it’s _slow_ . It hadn’t looked so slow when it happened to the others but it feels like an _eternity_ that Mako is trapped, clinging to his brother until his hands are gone, his eyes searing from the light shining directly into them—

And then his hands snap back together and he _screams_ and the light moves upwards, out of his sight, Bolin gone, but there’s still another light there, long and pale and rushing toward his face and behind it he sees Zuko, eyes afire as he swings the bulb and all Mako can do is bring his arms up to shield himself.

The light doesn’t hit but something else does, something bigger and with much more force and Mako feels himself torn away, flung backwards. He hears his little brother scream, _his little brother’s voice_ , and then he slams into the wall and falls the twelve feet up, no _down_ , back onto the hard linoleum floor.

There’s a crack when he hits the floor, his shoulder taking the shock of impact and burning with it, and Mako can’t help the shout that escapes his body. The store around him groans, crumbles, everything falling back down around him and he squirms his back up to the wall behind him, pressing against it as he cradles his arm.

“Mako!” Zuko shouts from somewhere behind the shelves. “Mako, oh my god, I’m so sorry, where are you?”

“Here,” Mako grinds out, and then Zuko is running down the aisle despite a limp, half-dragging his left foot behind him.

“Did I hit you? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, are you hurt?” Zuko’s hands are shaking, his hair loose and wild around his face, chest heaving as he reaches out to Mako but doesn’t touch.

Mako just nods and gestures to his shoulder. He doesn’t think he could speak if he wanted to, throat clogged with pain and exhaustion and panic and worry and just _everything_. He feels like he would cry if he could pick just one thing to cry about.

“Oh god, um—”

“Katara!” It’s Sokka’s voice, coming from another aisle.

Zuko’s head snaps up, face draining of what little color he had left. “Sokka?” he wheezes.

“Zuko!” Sokka shouts back. Mako hears the sounds of shoes approaching quickly, squeaking on the tiles, and when he looks up Sokka is rounding the corner. He drops to his knees before he can slow, sliding the rest of the way on his knees into Zuko’s waiting, trembling arms. “Are you guys alright, what the _fuck_ happened, holy _shit!_ ”

Zuko laughs into Sokka’s shoulder, heavy and cracked, and Sokka pulls back to look at him, eyes wide with worry. He kisses Zuko hard on the top of his head and Mako feels his face crumple, just a little.

He can hear the others calling out to each other, crying, shouts of relief, and Mako is struggling to his feet before he can think, needing to see them all, and he nearly blacks out from the pain of moving his arm.

“Slow down there, little dude,” Sokka exclaims, catching him before he can fall back to the floor. He gently prods at Mako’s shoulder and declares it dislocated, assuring him that it’s not a big deal, Zuko can pop it back in, no problem! Mako looks up and Zuko is shaking his head frantically, his hands still trembling as he absently rubs at his chest.

“Okay then,” Sokka says, a forced lightness in his tone as he watches Zuko with concern, then adjusts Mako’s position so he’s sitting on the ground, both of Sokka’s hands on his arm. “I gotcha. On the count of three.”

It burns again, but this time it’s followed by a hollow ache that’s much easier to handle than the previous stabbing pains. Mako just squeezes his eyes shut and breathes.

“Tough kid,” Sokka compliments, taking his yellow tank off and fashioning it into a rudimentary sling, eyes darting periodically back to Zuko. He’s pressed his back up to the wall, the heels of his hands dug into squeezed shut eyes. Sokka pats Mako lightly on the back then goes to sit next to Zuko, wrapping his arms around him and settling his head against Zuko’s shoulder. 

“Mako!” Wu shrieks. Mako jerks around, half expecting to see another monster on his friend’s tail, but it’s just Wu, sprinting from the other end of the aisle and throwing himself into Mako’s arms before Mako can protest.

He yelps as Wu knocks into his shoulder, then tumbles backward, smacking his head on the floor. 

“Sorry!” Wu chokes out, but he doesn’t move. He shudders and when Mako raises his head to see that Wu is bawling on top of him, he doesn’t hesitate to tug him closer with his good arm and hold on tight.

He just lies there for a moment, letting Wu’s weight press him into the cold tiles, grounding him as he stares up at the ceiling where he had been standing only minutes before. It’s like his mind is trying to catch up with his body, trying to piece together how he had ended up on the ceiling then back on the floor, holding his brother then holding Wu.

Mako jolts upright and Wu squeaks, rolling off him as Mako staggers to his feet and runs down the aisle. “Bolin?” he shouts. He ignores the pain of his arm jostling at his side, scanning up and down the aisles he passes.

Bolin’s on aisle six, lying in the middle of a pile of convenience store rubble. Katara and Toph are already there, kneeling over him, and Mako shoves between them. “Is he okay?” he demands, panting. He grabs the front of Bolin’s shirt, not moving him, just holding on.

His brother is pale, ash white as he lays atop the dumb grocery products, surrounded by outdated packaging. There’s blood oozing from little tears around his mouth, which hangs open but there’s no otherworldly voice coming from it. Mako presses his hand to Bolin’s chest and bites back tears when he feels the heartbeat. He can’t cry, not now, not when Bolin needs him, and he leans in close to hear the breath wheezing in and out of his lungs.

“Why isn’t he awake?” Mako asks. He lets go of the shirt to gently touch Bolin’s cheek and he twitches.

“I think he’s stunned,” Katara says. When Mako looks over, her face is grim, tear stains coating her cheeks. Toph is crying quietly beside her, fingers folded into Katara’s sleeve. “He doesn’t seem to have any major injuries,” she offers, voice steady. Toph sniffles.

“Bolin?” Mako gently shakes his shoulder.

Bolin groans, the noise soft and quiet and unmistakably his _own_ , and he slowly blinks open eyes that don’t glow.

“Oh my god, _Bolin!_ ” Mako carefully doesn’t throw himself onto his brother, instead wrapping his arm around his shoulders and pressing his forehead against Bolin’s chest. Bolin’s hands are instantly clinging to the back of Mako’s shirt and Mako feels his brother’s chest start to rise and fall more rapidly, hitching.

“Breathe, Bolin,” Katara says. “You’re okay.” Bolin obeys, taking a deep breath, and when he exhales it’s with a rasping, shaking wail that rips Mako’s heart from his chest.

Bolin shoves Mako away and retches, vomiting into the pile of cracker packages behind him. Toph jerks backward at the sound.

“Bolin, Bolin, it’s okay, you’re okay now,” Mako says, reaching out for him again. Bolin buries his face in Mako’s shoulder and he can feel the wetness soaking through the sleeve, a combination of tears, snot, blood, and probably vomit, but he doesn’t care, just squeezes his brother as tight to his chest as he can without breaking him even more and repeats the words over and over in the hopes that repetition will make it true: “You’re okay now.”

<O>

Grandma Yin is surprisingly unphased when she lets the ragtag group of kids stumble into her home. She’s concerned, of course, but she doesn’t pry, accepts Sokka and Katara’s idiotic car accident story and doesn’t comment on the fact that the van is completely intact.

Aang carries Bolin in from the car and Mako trails after them, hanging onto Bolin’s hand where it dangles. Bolin is hiccuping, quiet little sobs that he’s still choking on even as his eyes keep falling shut in exhaustion. Aang settles him in the armchair and Mako immediately squeezes in next to him.

His attention is on Bolin, so he startles when Aang pulls him into a quick hug. Aang smiles sadly down at him. “You needed one,” he says, then goes outside to help the others. Mako swallows tears and pulls Bolin in to lay against his shoulder.

Zuko had hurt his ankle worse than he let on, and Katara bears most of his weight as he limps through the doorway. Grandma directs them to the other armchair, then scurries back into her room and comes back with a hefty first aid kit.

Aang and Sokka shuffle in sideways through the door with Suki supported between them, her face pale and blood dripping down her leg. When the store had flipped, she’d landed right in one of the big fluorescent lights and gashed her leg before disappearing. Grandma Yin tuts as they lay her across the couch, grumbling about bloodstains. Wu leads Toph in behind them, eyes wide. He takes her to sit on the ground beside Zuko’s armchair then comes and sits down at Mako’s feet, leaning his head against Mako’s knee.

Mako just watches everyone move around the room, patching each other up, his eyes bleary but fighting to stay awake, clutching Bolin to his chest and just feeling him breathe, hearing the little rasps coming from his throat that are still Bolin, still his little brother, no one else. Grandma Yin comes over at one point to wipe Bolin’s face clean with a warm washcloth and Mako watches her pause for a minute, resting her hand on his face with an amount of open tenderness Mako hasn’t seen from her before. Then, she turns and does the same to him, patting his cheek and ruffling his hair before straightening up with a groan.

“You alright, kid?” she says to Mako’s feet, and he feels Wu’s grip tighten around his ankle and his head nod against his knee. Grandma Yin sighs, then reaches down and ruffles Wu’s hair, too. He protests softly, says something about his careful styling, but Mako knows he doesn’t mind.

Grandma Yin proposes that everyone stay the night and Aang thanks her on behalf of the others, all too tired to say anything meaningful. Aang, Katara, and Sokka rise to help set up makeshift beds in the living room and Grandma looks pointedly at Wu, who gets up, too, surprised and reluctant. “It’ll build character,” she grunts, then turns to Mako, who’s trying to think of some way he can rearrange Bolin so he can get up without disturbing him. “You stay put,” she says firmly, and he just nods.

Suki’s already asleep on the couch and Toph is curled up against the other armchair, head tucked to her knees, but Mako doesn’t think she’s asleep yet. Zuko absently runs his fingers through her hair, his other hand propping his head up on the armrest as he stares at the ground. Mako watches the repetitive motion, feels Bolin’s rhythmic breathing against his own, and slowly drifts off to sleep.

<O>

Mako wakes up in his own room but in the wrong bed, and he realizes that he’s in his _brother’s_ bed, shoved precariously close to the edge. Bolin is taking up the rest of the space, arms above his head on the pillow and legs twisted up in the sheets they’d kicked to the bottom of the bed. Mako sits up and rubs at his eyes. It’s late in the day already, the sun shining hot through the window, and Mako slips out of the bed and pulls the sheets back up to Bolin’s waist. He doesn’t stir, and Mako rests his hand on his chest for a moment just to feel it rise and fall.

They're both still in the same clothes from last night, so Mako changes and sets his shirt aside to ask Grandma how to get blood out of it. His arm twinges when he pulls off Sokka’s sling but it doesn’t hurt too bad and he sets the shirt on his bed for a moment while he looks for his shoes. The sheets are rumpled, not made up how Mako had left them, and he wonders idly who had slept there last night.

The living room is a mess, blankets and pillows everywhere, and there’s still blood on the couch but no one around, so he wanders out to the shop. There are only a few customers, idly perusing, and his grandmother is nowhere to be seen, presumably out giving a tour. Toph helps someone at the register, giggling as Zuko directs her from where he’s leaning back against the wall with his foot propped on the counter, wrapped and iced. He’s glaring, saying, “Not that button, the one to the left. The _left._ ” The customer fidgets awkwardly.

Toph sends the customer off with a bright grin, Zuko with a monotone, “Have a nice day.”

Mako walks over and hands Zuko Sokka’s shirt and Zuko tenses up, mumbling, “Thanks,” and looking away.

“Who’s that?” Toph asks.

“I can take over the register for you,” Mako offers. 

Toph scoffs. “No way, string bean, I’m having too much fun.”

“Wh—” Mako splutters. The jab startles the lingering morning sleepiness away and his brain starts chugging along, trying to piece together what exactly Toph had just called him. “ _String bean?_ Why would you— Wait, how can you—?”

Toph shrugs, delighted at Mako’s fluster. “Zuko told me.”

Mako slowly rotates to face Zuko, who’s looking hard in the other direction, cheeks bright red. “Why would you _say_ that?”

“She asked me to describe you!” Zuko protests. “And I didn’t call him a _string bean_.” He scowls at Toph who just grins in his direction.

“Is he scowling?” she asks Mako. She holds her hands up toward Zuko, palms out. “I can practically feel it.”

Despite himself, Mako giggles. “He is.”

Zuko blinks a little in surprise and shows the tiniest hint of a smile.

“Where is everyone?” Mako asks.

“Aang took them all home,” Zuko says. “Their families were getting worried.”

“Wu’s parents came and picked him up,” Toph adds. “Well, not his parents, I actually think it was a chauffeur,” she amends. “I’m surprised he didn’t wake you guys up, I heard him fall off the bed from down here when they went and got him.”

“Wu slept in my bed?” Mako repeats.

Zuko nods.

“Huh.”

The other customer comes up to the counter with one of the taxidermy creatures that Mako knows is just an especially detailed doll’s head glued to a squirrel body. He tries to help with the register but Toph slaps his hands away, so he just sits there and avoids eye contact with the customer until they leave.

“How’s Bolin doing?” Zuko asks.

Mako picks at the hem of his shirt. “He’s still asleep.”

Toph frowns. “Little dude must be exhausted.”

Mako just nods. The store is empty now and they sit in the quiet together, each lost in their own thoughts, none of which, Mako assumes, are good.

“I’m gonna go get some grub,” Toph says, and she pushes her stool back from the counter. Mako stands to accompany her but she waves him off, claiming she remembers the way back to the kitchen. She pinches Zuko’s arm and he yelps, slaps her hand away, then she grins and heads off.

Mako raises his eyebrows at Zuko, but he’s gone red again and is staring fixedly at the door where Toph had disappeared.

“What was that—”

“I owe you an apology,” Zuko blurts out, sitting stiffly in his seat.

Mako blinks. “For _what?_ ”

Zuko squares his shoulders. “For last night, I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t mean to take advantage of you but it was all I could think to do. Everyone was gone and the only thing I could think to do was take Bolin out but I couldn’t get close enough until you started talking to him, so I, I tried to hit him but I almost hit you, and I’m so f— I’m so sorry, Mako.”

Mako shakes his head, trying to make sense of everything Zuko just dumped on him. He shivers a little as he recalls the events right before everything… exploded, for lack of a better word, and Zuko’s story fits in, but he never… 

“Zuko, I never… I never _blamed_ you for anything,” Mako says. “We were all… everything was crazy and… and we were desperate.” He shakes his head again, unable to articulate himself the way he wants to.

Zuko’s still tense, like he doesn’t quite believe Mako, but he nods his head tightly. “I’m sorry,” he says one more time, voice gruff.

Mako fidgets in the following silence, thinking about the things the ghost had done, things the ghost had said. He glances at Zuko but he’s looking at the door again, so Mako fixes his eyes there, too. He feels his chest slowly compressing as he thinks about what he wants to say. “Some—” His voice cracks and he clears his throat. “Some of the… things the ghost said about… about me…”

And _now_ Zuko’s looking at him, Mako can feel the burn of his gaze on the side of his face but he doesn’t turn to meet it, maintaining his focus on the door. He opens his mouth to continue, shuts it, opens it again, closes it again, unable to make the words come. Zuko tentatively sets his fingers on Mako’s arm, the touch light, but it just makes Mako’s throat close up even more.

“I know,” Zuko says, his voice rough with the lowness of the words. “You don’t… you don’t have to say— if you don’t want to, not yet.”

Mako presses his lips together and nods.

“But it’s okay,” Zuko continues. “And when you do, if you want, I’ll be here.

Mako doesn’t know where to start with responding to that, his gratitude clogging his throat, but when Zuko goes to remove his hand Mako grabs onto it, clinging, and that seems to do better than his words can.

<O>

Even though Mako was careful to open the door as quietly as he could, Bolin still jerks upright when he goes in to check on him.

“It’s me,” Mako says quickly.

Bolin relaxes a bit, but he’s still clutching the blankets up to his chest.

“You’ve been awake?” Mako asks, closing the door softly behind him and approaching the bed.

Bolin nods.

“How long have— oh.” Mako breaks off when Bolin’s lower lip starts trembling.

Mako climbs up onto the bed and Bolin immediately latches onto Mako, pulling him close. Mako gets his arms around his brother and squeezes and Bolin lets out a shaky little exhale.

They sit like that for a while, curled around each other, Bolin crying quietly. Mako’s throat is tight, because nothing his brother ever does is quiet, and he wants to do something loud, something _normal_ so his brother can laugh and talk and Mako can know he’s alright again, but it’s not something he has the ability to force along.

As Bolin’s tears finally start to slow, Mako sits up a little so he can see his brother’s face. “How do you feel?” he asks.

Bolin just stares at him, wipes some of the tears from his cheek with his sleeve, and Mako winces.

“I mean, like, physically,” he clarifies.

Bolin is quiet again, and he reaches down to fiddle with the sheets before he answers softly: “Empty.”

Mako’s hands feel cold and he reaches out to Bolin again, tucking his fingers up against the warmth of his ribs and hugging him. Bolin clutches at the back of Mako’s shirt as he tries to explain.

“It… It felt like there was too much of me,” he says slowly. “Like my skin was too tight. I… I felt like I was gonna rip apart, Mako.” Mako hears the tears creep back into Bolin’s voice and he tightens his hold on him, hardly even caring if it’ll hurt him, just wanting to keep him safe, keep him close, keep him together. Bolin doesn’t seem to mind, continuing, “And then when I pushed them out, it was like… I dunno, like I was wearing one of Dad’s jackets. I didn’t fit anymore.”

Mako frowns. “Pushed them out?” he repeats, confused.

Bolin nods. “When I saw you were gonna get hurt.”

Mako sits up again and Bolin looks up at him from the tear-stained pillow, his eyes red and watery. “What do you mean?” Mako asks.

“I… I didn’t see or hear anything besides… besides the monster, but I could hear you. At the end.” He props himself up on his elbow. “When Zuko tried to hit me and the ghost moved, I knew he was gonna hit you so I just… I pushed you away and I think the ghost went, too.”

Mako stares at him until his vision starts to go a little blurry, his eyes stinging. 

“Mako?”

Mako swallows hard. “I’m fine,” he rasps, then pulls Bolin into another hug so his brother can’t see his face.

<O>

Zuko is hovering outside the door when Mako comes back out and Mako sighs. He’s so tired and he doesn’t know if he can talk to anyone without… without doing something drastic. The tension from last night and today still whirl inside him, a thousand thoughts going unaddressed. He closes the door quietly behind him. “Bolin’s asleep,” he informs Zuko.

Zuko nods. “Is he okay?”

Mako just shrugs and Zuko looks grim, but unsurprised.

“I’ve got your journal,” Zuko says, and he holds it out to Mako.

Mako stares at it, reaches out slowly to grab it. He had nearly forgotten about it but the moment he lays his hands on his journal relief washes over him and he feels a final crack inside him, like one last pebble landing atop a cliff, the beginnings of a landslide in his chest.

“I picked it up on the way out,” Zuko is explaining, “but I left it in the car, so I couldn’t give it to you this afternoon. Aang came by, though, to give me and Toph a ride back home, so I— Mako?”

Mako tries to bite his lip and stop its trembling but it’s too little, too late, and he doesn’t want to cry, not in front of Zuko, but it’s been _so much_ and he doesn’t think he can hold it back any longer.

“Hey, it’s okay!” Zuko says frantically. “Look, I don’t think it even really got damaged, see, it’s fine!”

Mako nods softly, tears coursing down his cheeks as he tries to avoid openly sobbing. Zuko crouches down so he can look up into Mako’s face and Mako doesn’t want to see him but he’s right there and he looks so concerned, so worried, and Mako hiccups and then it’s _over_. He throws his arms around Zuko’s shoulders and he feels Zuko sway, then stumble back and land on the floor as his hands come up to hold Mako so tight, so warm, and the last time Mako was hugged like this was when he was back at home with his parents, and he just bawls into Zuko’s shoulder, soaking it in tears.

Zuko’s stammering into his hair, awkward but soft, his hand running up and down Mako’s back and Mako goes limp, lets it happen until there are no more tears left and he couldn’t keep crying if he tried. He chokes down one last sob and pushes himself out of Zuko’s arms, turning away with cheeks burning.

“Sorry,” he mutters. He goes to climb down the stairs, to let Zuko recover from that embarrassing episode, but before he can he hears Zuko… sniffle. Mako looks back at him, shocked, and Zuko shrugs, using the collar of his shirt to wipe tears from his own cheeks.

“I’m a sympathetic crier,” he explains with a watery smile.

Mako just nods, dumbstruck.

“Listen, Mako,” Zuko says softly. “It’s been… it’s been a lot, and you did such a good job. I’m so sorry for getting you into all that,” — Mako opens his mouth to protest but Zuko holds up a hand to stop him— “and I’m very proud of you, if that means something. You’re a good kid.”

Mako brushes away a stray tear he must have missed before. “ _You’re_ a kid,” he says gruffly.

Zuko blinks. “So?”

“So don’t call me that.”

Zuko chuckles and they go downstairs together and Mako waves from the front porch as Zuko, Aang, and Toph drive off together, then sits down and watches the sun set until Grandma Yin yells at him to go wake his brother for dinner. Mako says Bolin should keep resting, but Grandma rolls her eyes.

“The boy can’t heal if he’s not fed,” she says.

So they eat dinner together, tv meals on their knees as they sit atop a towel on the couch, and beneath his grandmother’s cackling at the cartoon cat and mouse flickering across the screen, Mako hears his little brother laugh softly, and he smiles to himself and knows that eventually, they’ll be okay again.

<O>

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr [@eastaustraliancurrent](https://eastaustraliancurrent.tumblr.com) and check out my art blog [@eacart](https://eacart.tumblr.com) for some of my drawings for this au!! shout out to [@hotrod2007](https://hotrod2007.tumblr.com) for coming up with the idea and brainstorming with me, love u so much!!


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